Unstable Connection
by Dis' Fool
Summary: Uncertainty shown in her eyes as she stared at the windshield of the automobile with a wary look that people would have deemed to be stupidity. Perhaps it could have been if the object was inanimate - it wasn't, it was alive, like alive, alive. Apparently it was a robot in disguise also. Yeah, she figured she had every right to be wary of said car...
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

A cool refreshing breeze carried the lingering scent of rain and dew filled grass. Fallen leaves of a light auburn color tumbled along a concrete path, dancing along with the breeze to the silent song of the wind. The young and old casually strolled down the path, each smiling at the other with a respectful smile. Conversations, heartfelt laughter, barks of excited dogs and the steady pace of heavy breathing from joggers filled the air.

A few yards away a weathered down bench sat bolted down on a concrete slab underneath a tall oak tree where a black back pack laid. Its owner could be seen sitting atop an overhanging branch just above the old bench. Dark brown boots covered their feet, maroon leggings kept them from feeling the cold breeze, a synthetic leather jacket sat unzipped revealing a dark gray and black stripped long sleeve V-neck underneath. Dark hair, styled in curls, flowed down to the middle of their back. A tan hand swept a piece of fringe away from their face revealing features that they were either of Hispanic or Spanish decent.

Light brown eyes stared out at the park, observing with a slight keen interest. They watched people walk along, all of them seeming to not have a care in the world, all of them seeming to have left all the worries, burdens and stress behind to just enjoy the tranquil atmosphere, to escape from a little thing called reality even if it was for only an hour or two.

Erica sighed through her nose, crossing her feet she swung them lazily. She was just like everyone else in the park, escaping from the throes of reality. What she was escaping from, the people in the park wouldn't know.

To any passing person they would see a calm young high school girl enjoying the calm tranquil scenery, ear buds in her ears indicating she was passing the time by listening to music. They didn't see that inside she was struggling to hold herself together, to not break down. She was hurting with all the suppressed emotions she kept bottled up, refusing to let them out because she denied it - denied the blatant truth of what had happened over seas. She refused to accept it.

Adjusting the ear bud in her ear she smiled at an older couple that passed her tree, they giving a small friendly wave in return, possibly not wanting to bother her in conversation due to their thought that she was listening to music. In actuality she wasn't listening to anything, they were just a safe keeping to stop people from engaging her into conversation. The sounds of everyday life that surrounded many was nothing but a silent world to her, everything falling on deaf ears.

Erica wasn't born deaf, she was able to hear up until she was six. One day she had woken up to all sounds ceasing to exist for her. She had cried for two weeks straight, each morning she had woken up hoping and praying that she would wake to the sounds of her home, but it never happened. It wasn't until she was nine that she came to terms with her disability, finally agreeing to learn sign language, and take homeschooling as seriously as a nine-year old could.

She was pulled from her thoughts, taking notice of the curious glances people kept shooting in her direction. Frowning she looked over her shoulder at the parking lot behind her. She raised her brow at the sight of a Pontiac Solstice slowly making its way through the parking lot.

That would definitely turn some heads. It wasn't strange to see flashy cars, they would pass through the town from time to time, but it was odd enough to find one that apparently someone in town owned one besides the two well known and well off families. Though, they both shared a taste for older classic model cars. This car obviously didn't belong to either family.

She watched curiously as the driver pulled into the parking spot behind her tree. Their windows were tinted making it hard for her to judge whether it was a man or woman, but she could see the outline of a figure sitting in the driver's seat.

The driver's door opened, and suddenly she couldn't breathe.

A man in military fatigues leaned against the open door, a piece of white gauze with dried blood taped to his left cheek, his grin widening into a full-blown out smile as he titled his head to look up at her with eyes mirroring her own.

They had said that there were no known survivors, that the base had gone under attack and was in nothing but shambles - no one could have survived the devastating impact. Yet, here was one standing before her. He was here, he had survived the attack in Qatar. He was right there. Why did it seem so to true to be real?

She knew why - she blamed the fact that he came home in a damn Pontiac Solstice.

Her eyes swelled with tears, and when he cocked his brow in a 'well' manner, all the pent-up emotions burst from behind the damn. She scrambled down the tree, stumbling to right her footing as she hopped on to the table and jumped down, unaware in her haste that she accidentally yanked the ear buds out.

She saw him swiftly move around the open door before she crashed into his arms, burying her face in his neck, gripping the fabric of his fatigue tightly. She sobbed and shook in his arms as he embraced her tightly back pressing his lips into her hair.

He was here. She closed her eyes praying this wasn't a dream.

He moved back slightly, bringing his hands to her face to wipe away her tears. She sniffed and opened her eyes, her eyes widening at the sight of tears slowly trailing down his own face. She felt his body shake in a chuckle at the sight of her wide eyes, giving her a wry grin. She gave him a watery smile in return as he pressed a kiss to her forehead before wrapping his arms around her again.

He had been terrified, scared that he wasn't going to be coming home, afraid that he was going to die. His tears and slight tremors were proof enough.

She buried her face in his neck once more. He was here. He was home, His hand rubbed up and down her back soothingly in a familiar gesture and she knew he was speaking comforting words to her, knowing she would easily understand in her own way.

He was alive.

Her brother was alive.

"I'm here. It's alright, I'm here, I'm safe...I'm home."

* * *

Behind a large factory of a car body manufacturer sat a small aged empty warehouse, a reminder of what the business had once been and how much it has grown over the years. Unbeknownst to many of the workers the abandoned warehouse held a prized item. Beneath the buildings structure an added floor had been designed under ground. A vast space that was anything but empty.

Lights flicked on revealing machinery and equipment that would have been heatedly questioned. After all what would a car body manufacturer company have anything to do with liquid nitrogen?

In the center of the room a large metal slab that had once been empty was currently occupied. A metallic body lay unmoving, its optics dark, void of any power.

One who would come across it would think it strange to see such an odd sight, for they would think it would be in the process of being built. Created from a hollow infrastructure of a project one envisioned to come true. Instead of a clean polished finish it was as if the large metal behemoth had forgone a war. Paint that had once been two clean separate colors was no longer visible, leaving nothing but dull gray metal. Black scorch marks and large unforgiving lacerations marred the incredible creation. Severed wires lay haphazardly inside of the lacerations, speckles of a dried blue substance littering the jagged edges.

Footfalls echoed as a single figure approached the large mass being, their eyes scanning the metal workings appreciatively. Sector seven may have been disbanded, but they were never exactly apart of it. They had been nothing but a mere mole getting the desired information. Their loyalties lied elsewhere.

They glanced down at their watch. It was time to get to work.

Light flicked off, a door slamming shut.

Minutes passed within the darkness, everything still and just. Yet, it wasn't exactly quiet. An inaudible hum echoed throughout the room, growing stronger and then slowly becoming faint.

A faint blue light flared to life, streams of it escaping through the seams of the metallic beings chest. Just as suddenly as it appeared it immediately faded.

* * *

**So, there's the Prologue! This is my first Transformers Fanfic so bare with me if I accidently butcher something, like say some of the 'Bots accents or if they aren't exactly in character. I will try my damn hardest to make sure they are in character but can't promise anything. And yes, I chose Jazz to be alive cause Michael Bay is cruel for killing him off! Anyway, I hope you all became interested and join me for the ride of Unstable Connection.**

**Oh yeah, anyone can try an guess who our mystery bot is. He won't exactly be known till chapter 2...maybe, dunno yet. **


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers (though I wish I did - I would love all of them), I only own my OC's and the plot!**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

To say that Jazz didn't find his current situation awkward would have been a lie. It was terribly awkward.

Pretending to be a vehicle that was nothing but a machine for transportation wasn't awkward, he found blasting music through his speakers and raising the bass very enjoyable on the road. Getting a car wash from the Soldier and sibling wasn't awkward, it was like being basked in Primus' presence himself. Sitting in a drive way for hours on end wasn't awkward, highly boring? Yes, why he was never more thankful for the com-links.

Now sitting in the drive way with Mark's said sibling...

Awkward.

The femme has been crouched in front of him for three minutes now. Her eyes narrowed in a scrutinized way. It was unnerving, more so then having been torn in half by Megatron.

Mark had told Jazz about his sister's hearing loss when they had all been detained. Their new human comrades having voiced their eagerness to get home to see their family units, which lead to each of them sharing humorous stories. It wasn't until Epps had asked Mark about how a 'Lil Mouse' was doing that the soldier talked about his younger sibling. The Autobots, including himself, had been confused on how a small rodent was his sibling, but the humans explained it was nothing but a caring nickname full of endearment - which had lead to Ironhide saying, "See Ratchet - reason why everyone calls you 'Hatchet'."

The weapons specialist found himself sporting a new dent, along with Jazz because he couldn't help himself about voicing a certain set of twin terrors. That had lead to the 'bots sharing their own humorous stories about the two pranksters.

Mark didn't tell him how highly, and scary observant his sister was however. There was one time when they had come back from a drive in theater, both of the humans having exited him, that he lowered himself on his shocks and Erica had apparently caught the movement out of her peripheral vision cause she had stopped, staring long an hard at him. Another time had been when he had gotten a wash, he had shuddered at the cold water and she had frowned at him, once again causing her to frown and keep a watchful eye on him throughout the car wash. The third had been when he had believed she wouldn't notice due to her exiting the car, he had popped open the driver's door for Mark - she had seen.

Jazz has been overly careful around her since, always waiting till her back was fully turned or till she was in the house. The femme had keen, sharp eyesight, specially out of the corner of her eyes; her peripheral vision seeming to be enhanced due to her deafness.

Erica's eyes narrowed further as she tilted forward slightly, car keys swinging around her finger. Jazz almost sagged on his shocks in relief when she had let out a huff of air and stood with a frown as she patted the hood twice before turning on her heel, heading into the house with the bag of Mc Donalds she had driven him to get. He inwardly chuckled, if Ratchet was in his place the old medic would have been throwing a fit and more then likely rant on the com-link about how the food was unhealthy for human consumption.

His comm pinged.

Speaking of said medic. **::** What's up Ratch'?** ::**

Inside the house, Mark crossed his arms leaning against the island in the kitchen as he watched Erica crouching in front of Jazz. The corner of his lip twitching up, if the Solstice wasn't a sentient being he would have believed his sister had gone bonkers with the stare down she was currently giving to the vehicle. He sighed, eyes turning away from the window. The guilt crept up again, Erica was more then likely thinking she was going crazy, but he would rather have her believe that then involve her in the new world he was now living in.

For the past few days Mark has been waging a war inside himself. To tell Erica, or not tell her. The sole reason their brother/sister relationship was so strong compared to others was due to the fact that they spoke, not talking on a daily basis but actually speaking, confiding in one other; relying on the other to be their pillar during a time of need, or just being there for the other. If one was pissed at the other they wouldn't stew in quiet anger, they would blatantly tell the other that they were royally pissed off. If one was emotionally hurt, or struggling internally they would seek out the other for quiet comfort of the other's presence. If one wanted to talk about a situation, they would talk; decisions were never made by just one, it was made by both.

He glanced at the window. A decision was currently being made by one of them while the other was completely unaware. He lowered his eyes - neither kept secrets from the other. Closing his eyes he breathed through his nose. He was hiding a large secret, a Cybertronian disguised as the car sitting in his drive way to be exact.

Mark opened his eyes at the sound of the front door closing. The new world he had been exposed to terrified him, and Mark wasn't one to be easily scared. The Cybertronians were far more advanced than anything man kind has seen, their capabilities beyond what was truly thought possible. The relic's power he had bare witness to was truly incredible. Their biomechanics of weaponry was purely incredible, the raw power they could inflict with such items; he as a human had every right to be wary, for they were beings to fear.

A flash back suddenly surged forward. Burning heat, tiredness, air crackling with a tense uncertainty. His boots sinking into the sand, finger twitching on the trigger. Sand exploding, metal glinting, Donnelly a few feet from him, sound of gunfire. Donnelly in the air. Donnelly's blood flecking half his face. A metal spike protruding from his brother in arms chest.

A soft hand jolted him from the haunting memory. Erica stared at him in concern, her hand squeezing his bicep.

'I'm okay. Just a flashback.' He signed with a sad smile.

Dropping her hand she gave a nod of understanding before signing, 'Hungry? Got chicken nuggets.'

He rose a brow. 'Honey mustard?'

Erica's face scrunched in disgust. 'How can you dip them in that? Got ranch.'

He smiled, shrugging. 'Hey, its good.'

She rolled her eyes, turning to take the food out of the bag.

Mark turned to the window once again. His flashback having brought the fear back, fear that if he exposed his sister to the secret she could possibly become hurt, or worse, killed. The boy Sam Witwicky, Mark knew his life had altered drastically, he could never go back to being normal - none of them could, not with the lurking threat of Decpticons still looming over their heads. Erica was only a year older than Sam and Mikaela, for those two teens to have been part of the battle of Mission City - it had to of have its traumatizing effects on them. They now have to constantly look over their shoulder, be wary of any passing vehicle and airplane for any Decepticons that could kill Sam out of spite for their leader's offlining.

Mark couldn't expose his sister to that, yet, he already was risking it with Jazz sitting in the drive way. He clenched his jaw, it was only temporary. Once Jazz was gone his sister wouldn't be in the proximity of danger, she could live a normal life without the knowledge of an extraterrestrial race living among them.

He gave a small minute nod, his inner war had finally ceased, he'd come to a decision. His sister's well being came first, he would keep her in the dark. Pushing himself off the island he walked past his sister, snatching a chicken nugget. He laughed at the soft smack to the back of his head giving her a wide innocent smile.

A car horn blared.

Mark's head turned sharply towards the window, his face turning into confusion.

Erica watched as her brother walked out of the house with a frown. He had signed that he was going to see if he left his phone in the car, and she had signed back saying she didn't see it in there. He wanted to double-check, she could have overlooked it.

She plopped herself down on the couch flipping the tv on. The screen came to life with the ruins of Mission City, the news was discussing the terrorist attack once again. She read the captioned words for a few seconds before deciding it was boring, moving her finger to change the channel she paused, the screen had changed. She narrowed her eyes on the blurry image of an odd shape. It almost looked like a...soda machine?

She blinked, why would they show a blurry image of a soda machine? Leaning closer she attempted to make out the rest of the image but the screen switched back to the news caster and she immediately lost interest. Changing the channel she smiled at the sight of Plankton attempting to steal the Crabby Patty formula once again.

A soft push to the back of her head caused her turn around. Mark was grasping his keys, one jacket sleeve on his arm with a chicken nugget in his mouth.

Soon as his eyes landed on her she signed, 'Hot date you forgot about?'

Mark narrowed his eyes playfully. 'That was one time.' Pulling the other sleeve over his arm he grasped a handful of fries. 'I'll be back later. Txt me if you need anything.'

Nodding her head she stifled her laughter at her brother walking out, shoving the handful of fries in his mouth.

Her smile slowly fell, her eyes turning to stare at the wall. Three more days. Three more days and he would be leaving for the base. She bit her lip, not exactly ready for the somber loneliness to return. Least the base wasn't exactly far, only a state away.

Letting out a soft sigh she turned her eyes back towards the TV. This month had surely passed quickly, to quickly for her liking.

* * *

Bumblebee honked for the fifth time.

"Hold on!" Sam shouted from inside his house.

The young Autobot scout bounced on his wheels, honking once more. The door slammed open revealing a very irritated Judy Witwicky. Bumblebee cringed at the scorching gaze, lowering himself on his shocks he gave a warbled apology.

Ron and Judy Witwicky had taken the information of their son housing an alien being in their garage considerably well. Of course Judy had fainted at the sight of Bumblebee transforming into his bi-pedal mode, Ron on the other hand had just nodded his head with quiet mutterings of 'aliens are real', 'my son owns an alien car', and 'we bought an alien for four thousand dollars'.

Judy adjusted to the change immediately, falling in love with the adorable young scout and his gentle nature towards them. She officially considered Bumblebee as a part of the family, so scolding the Camaro along with Sam became second nature. She even went as far as to ground him - Sam wasn't allowed to give him a car wash during that time.

Ron had been distant in the beginning, but soon he to found the yellow Cybertronian grow on him. If Bumblebee could save him gas money by taking him to the necessary stores, Ron found him good in his books. Sam had complained about using him, but truthfully Ron enjoyed the 'bots company. They made conversation easily, and Bee was his eyes, always watching out for the well being of his son.

"Honk that horn one more time Bee an I swear," Judy pointed a spatula in his direction. "I'll convert you into a damn blender!"

Bee slunk back, another warbled apology leaving his radio. Sam bounded out of his house and Bee cringed, knowing what was about to happen.

"Hey Mom-"

A rather hard hit from a spatula met his chest.

"Oww! Mom what - that's child abuse!" Another hit from said spatula got his shoulder. "Ow~wuh! Seriously Mom what's your problem!"

Judy crossed her arms. "That's for making Bee honk for you."

"Sorry," Sam grumbled.

"It's to late to apologize."

"Shut it tin can!"

_Smack!_

"Oww, Mom!"

"Be nice!" She scolded. "I want you back by ten tonight."

"Wha-"

"Bee, if you even think of sneaking in past midnight again..." Judy let the threat linger in the air.

"Dead meat! Don't worry captain-heard you loud an clear."

"Yeah Mom, we'll be home on time!" Sam said over his shoulder as he slipped in the driver's seat.

Judy gave them another scorching glare before they pulled out. Sam shuddered, his mom could get scary with that look. He leaned back, his hands gripping the bottom of the steering wheel lazily to give the illusion he was actually driving.

"Hey buddy, where exactly are we going?" Sam asked. "You were kinda rushing me to get out."

Bumblebee's voice streamed through the radio instead of the sound bytes. "Optimus wishes to speak with us at the over look."

Sam quirked a brow. "About what? Should we get 'Kaela?"

"Ratchet has already gotten her. I'm not exactly sure but it seems important, given that Ironhide and Jazz will be bringing along Will and Mark. You know how far they live." Bee replied.

Sam nodded his head, his brow furrowing in worry. "Hey Bee...do you think it has anything to do with Decepticons?"

Bee was silent, mulling the thought over in his processor. "It could be a possibility, but I highly doubt it. There hasn't been any Decepticon activity since Mission City."

"Yeah," Sam rubbed the tip of his nose. "But Dorito and psycho cop still haven't been found, have they?"

Amusement filled Bee's spark at the nickname his charge had given the Decepticons SIC. Sam had been lounging on his hood, bag of Doritos in hand, when he loudly stated that Starscream was shaped like said chip. Hence the nickname Sam continues to use.

"No, Starscream's whereabouts are still unknown," the amusement in Bee's voice didn't go unnoticed, neither did the short pause or melancholy tone that replaced it. "As for Barricade - he should be offlined somewhere. Optimus said the damage he had sustained was fatal."

Sam's eyes turned to the radio curiously. "Do you really still find the Dorito thing funny?"

The seat underneath him vibrated in a laugh. He grinned. "Good, then that means the guys should find it hilarious."

"Not as much as Screaming Dorito of Doom," Bee voiced.

It was silent in the Camaro. Sam made a struggling noise, a snort of a laughter escaping him. "That's even better!"

"I know." Bee said sounding smug.

The laughter slowly died down, settling into a comfortable silence. Sam stared out the driver's window watching as the suburban scenery turned into open terrain. "Hey, Bee?"

A warble acknowledged him.

"Did you know Barricade?"

Silence stretched on till a quiet but firm 'no' filtered through the speakers, music quickly flicking on afterwards signaling the young scout did not wish to speak further of the topic his charge had innocently asked out of curiosity.

* * *

Eyes turned to the rearview mirror with a nervous glance once again, Will breathing out of his nose and running a hand through his hair for the umpteenth time.

"She'll be fine Will," Ironhide's gruff voice streamed from the radio. "I did a thorough search. She'll more then likely stay in her recharging state till we get back."

"If Sarah finds out..."

Ironhide almost found himself rolling his eyes inwardly, a sign he has been in the presence of Will's sparkmate far to many times to count for him to be using her trademark eye roll. "She won't, now calm yourself. Ratchet will believe I had threatened you in some way."

Will let out a sigh relaxing his tense body into the seat. "We'll get our asses put on a platter if she realizes where we've gone."

"Your aft will be the only one."

Will blinked - was that amusement in the weapon specialist's voice? Will had come to know that Ironhide had a rough exterior, the true embodiment of a Soldier who had his share of war. Perhaps it was because Will shared the same exterior, a little less then the Cybertronian, that they had gotten along so easily, but even then they had never shared more then serious conversations. For Ironhide to have even a slight smidge of humor in his body was not exactly a surprise for Will, more of an unexpected emotion he didn't believe the black behemoth was able to carry. Yet the more time he found himself in Ironhide's company the more he realized that it was ignorant for him to believe the Cybertronians were nothing but a husk of computer wires, for Optimus had said they are sentient beings.

"An you don't think Sarah will key the hell outta you?" Will said with a raised brow, small grin on his face. "You never get in between a mama bear and her cub."

Ironhide shuddered slightly after he looked up what Will had meant about 'keying', but he failed to see how a bear and its cub was remotely relevant to what they were speaking of. "I don't see your sparkmate committing such an act. She is still weary of my presence."

Will frowned, apparently he would have to explain the Human connotations for the Autobot to understand. "Even if she is, she'll do it. Women tend to have a protective trait around children that's theirs. Why I said if she found out - she's ganno be extremely pissed. You already know how she dislikes the fact of Annie even being anywhere near strangers, including you - never mind sitting in you."

"It proves she is a good..." Ironhide paused, searching for the word. "Mother. You have a very good and dedicated sparkmate Will."

A fond smile formed on his lips. "Yeah," he breathed out. "I got the best damn fish outta the whole sea, that's for sure."

Again Ironhide became confused. Humans were extremely strange, continually jumping off a topic with a strange tangent before suddenly continuing with what they had been discussing. He voiced this to Will and got a soft chuckle as a response.

"Remind me to teach you Human connotations."

Once they reached the overlook they found Bumblebee, Ratchet and Jazz in their bi-pedal mode. The young scout sat a few feet away, two teens laying back on their elbows in front of him with a young man standing close by. Jazz was laying on his back with Ratchet kneeling next to him, a red light scanning over the saboteur's frame. As Will hopped out of Ironhide he heard Sam and Mikaela laughing at Bumblebee mimicking Ratchet as he told them a story.

"Watch it youngling," Ratchet growled out. "You still have a check up that needs to be done."

The scouts optics widened, a sheepish form of a smile crossing over his features.

Jazz snickered. "Yeah Bee, I'd watch out. Don' want ol' Ratch' ta wrench ya ta death."

Ironhide snorted, his voice streaming from his radio through the still open door. "As if."

His earlier musing was proven correct, he was ignorant - clearly watching the scene before him the Cybertronians were much like themselves, emotions and all. Will's lips twitched into a smile as they were greeted warmly before the bantering continued, Mark having moved to stand next to him as he to observed them with a slighty upturned lip. "Did Mouse kill you for not calling?"

Mark chuckled next to him, his arms folding across his chest. "Nah, she was just happy I was home."

He turned his eyes to Will, a sad smile on his face. "The one damn time she actually watches the news - Qatar was being reported."

Will gave him an understanding nod. "Sarah had seen it too. She chewed my ass out for not calling to tell her I was alright."

Mark grinned at him, his eyes turning to watch the two teens and young 'bot. Will eyed him, seeing the flicker of guilt passing through his eyes. "She doesn't know, does she?"

Mark sighed, eyes gazing out at the view. "No."

Will followed his gaze, watching the beauty of the setting sun as its colors seemed to dance across the hills like flames from a fire. "Sarah figured it out."

"How?" Mark asked softly.

Will smirked. "She's my wife, she's know if I'm keeping something hidden...and she followed me into the old barn - caught Ironhide transforming."

"His sparkmate glitched," Ironhide grumbled.

"Fainted." Will clarified.

He glanced back at his youngest squad member, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know you have your reasons, but Mouse is ganno find out. Kid's smart."

Mark huffed a laugh, a fond smile on his face. "Yeah, lil' shit is."

"Yo 'Hide!" Jazz turned his head to the truck. "Why're ya still - ow Ratch' ah I felt that - in yer alt-mode."

"Quit your squirming then," Ratchet muttered. "Or else im going to put you into stasis!"

Mikaela glanced over taking notice that Ironhide hadn't cut off his ignition.

A loud rumbling engine caught their attention. A familiar red and blue flamed decaled Peterbilt rolled in, its brakes hissing to a stop. It broke apart, transforming and revealing the leader of the Autobots.

"'Bout time you got here big guy!" Sam exclaimed.

Optimus glanced down. "I apologize. I was discussing a few important matters with General Morshower and Secretary Keller. The Secretary also sends his greetings to everyone and wishes you all well."

The Humans smiled warmly.

**::** Political matters I presume? **::** Ratchet voiced through the comm link, standing up to face his Prime while pulling Jazz to his peds.

"How's the base looking?" Will asked with a tilt of his head. "Is N.E.S.T. fully up an operational?"

Optimus' optics turned to his CMO. **::** They are highly persistent. **::**

"It is looking promising. Its functionality should be up to par for the temporary stay. As for N.E.S.T., no, it is not operational as of yet. General Morshower has issued for you to deem who will be eligible and allowed in since your now known title is Captain." Optimus rumbled.

"Wait," Sam turned confused eyes to Will. "What's N.E.S.T.? And why is the base temporary? Are you guys building a new one or something?"

**::** They still goin' on 'bout the weapons? **::** Jazz asked, shifting his own optics away from the Humans to meet his Prime's.

Mark turned his eyes on Will, his brow furrowing. "When the hell did you get promoted!?"

**::** Yes, and they will never cease to insist on them I'm afraid. **::** Optimus glanced in Ironhide's direction, his optics whirring. **::** Ironhide, are you well old friend?** ::**

**::** I'm fine. **::** Ironhide shifted on his wheels, moving forward then back again in what would seem to be a rocking motion.

"Hey, 'Hide," Mikaela's voice sounded concerned, interrupting Will's explanation's to Mark and Sam. "Are you okay?"

All eyes turned to the weapons specialist. Rubbing a hand down his face Will groaned. "She woke up."

Bumblebee whirred curiously, his optics brightening once he understood who Will was speaking of. "Were havin' a baby! A baby!"

Mikaela perked up at the sound byte. "You brought the baby?"

The other three Autobots looked on curiously as Will clambered into the back seat. Slowly he came back out, a small bundle in his arms. Bumblebee leaned down, his blue optics meeting sky blue eyes. He smiled excitedly and waved a servo down at the small organic.

"Mark," Will glanced over his shoulder. "Mind getting the car seat out and her diaper bag. Pretty sure 'Hide wants to stretch out."

"Fellas, and gal, this is Annabelle." Will smiled down affectionately at his baby girl as her eyes stared up owlishly at the strange being crouching over her father.

Ironhide transformed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Will's sparkling."

"She's so cute!" Mikaela squealed. "Can I hold her?"

Will nodded his head and gently passed her to the teenage girl's arms.

"Sarah is ganno skin your ass alive if she finds out, huh?" Mark said in amusement.

"Yep," Will replied popping the 'p'. "Hey Ratchet, think you could swing by my place sometime and explain to my wife that Annie won't get sick by being exposed to you guys."

Ratchet gave a slight nod, looking over the scan he had just done on the small femme. "She is in good condition and healthy. Though she has just defecated."

Ironhide took a step back causing his fellow Autobots to look at him in mild confusion. He scowled, grumbling, "It's disgusting."

"It's natural." Ratchet stated.

Will chuckled as he laid out a blanket, motioning Mikaela to set her down. "'Hide had a bad experience."

Jazz grinned, his visor brightening in amusement. "Awhh what's wrong 'Hide, can't handle a lil' organic's feces?"

Sam wrinkled his nose. "It isn't exactly a pretty sight..."

A small boy's voice came from Bumblebee's speakers. "Ahh can't be all bad!"

Mark shared a look with Sam, his lip upturning into a smirk.

Jazz and Bumblebee reared back, Ratchet's facial plates scrunched up in slight disgust, Optimus watched them with an amused expression as Ironhide huffed a laugh.

The Autobots and Humans settled into companionable conversations, the air surrounding them lax and pleasantly calm. Optimus optics studied his fellow comrades, it seemed that even with the grief of the Allspark being gone his fellow Autobots had found slight joy on this planet, ways to cope. He watched the grin upon his young scout and saboteur's facial plates, the small smile on his CMO, and the soft expression of his weapon specialist - all of this directed to the human sparkling that cooed happily in Will's arms, her eyes always watching and shifting between each of the 'bots. Perhaps in the near future all of them would be able to call this place home, and it was with that thought that he strode away and stood at the edge of the overlook, his optics turned to the darkening sky, opening up a transmission for those among the stars.

It was during that time that Mark failed to notice his phone going off beside him, to engrossed listening to Bumblebee play the transmission through his speakers. The caller ID would have been a cause for alarm, but the voicemail that had been left would leave him numb.

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**And theres the end of Chap. 1! I apologize for the late update. Updates will more then likely be sporadic. Until next time my fellow readers!**


	3. Chapter 2

**Thanks to those who have reviewed, followed and favorite!**

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**Chapter 2**

"Jazz!"

The mech turned his optics sharply, his processor registering the distress in Mark's voice. Mark's face was contorted into confusion, his eyes slowly widening with a hint of fear. Brown eyes met electrifying blue, and immediately Jazz understood.

Transforming to the Solstice he popped open the driver's door. Once Mark was safely seated his wheels dug into the soil, digging up dirt and rocks as he shot forward. Questions came from the com-link and he replied back with what he believed was wrong. A siren answered him, along with a heavy roaring engine.

Mark gripped his phone tightly as he replayed the message. What had she been doing? What had she done to warrant unwanted attention? Where was she?

Loud rustling, shifting and heavy breathing came from the speaker. Someone was taking deep breaths, attempting to suck in more oxygen or calm themselves down. A sharp inhale, more rustling, then feet pounding against concrete or asphalt. A male voice cursed.

Jazz tapped into the phone, streaming the voicemail through the com-link.

A harsh thud and crack, a hiss of pain and panting. She was gasping for air now - Mark's knuckles turned white. A quiet whimper came through, then a loud sniffle before the rustling returned, a sound of something being dragged screeched through the speaker. It soon disappeared, the heavy breathing and feet pounding returning.

A panicked noise came from her throat, along with a growl of irritation and sniff. Her foot falls suddenly became soft but highly apparent, she must have been running across dirt. Another tumble, sound of jostling, harsh breathing. Her feet pounded against solid ground once more. She sucked in air greedily, her feet slamming faster.

Mark realized she was getting desperate, she couldn't shake off whoever was chasing her.

"Cut her off!"

Mark grit his teeth at the faint sound of an engine starting. She couldn't hear. She didn't know.

A heavy harsh thud, and another crack came through. Sounds of a scuffle filled the speaker, her harsh breathing mixed in with another's. A cry of pain came from a male, a huff from her. The engine roared loudly through the speaker, an ear piercing screech of tires skidding along pavement; then the sound of something tumbling.

"I got 'er!"

Footfalls approached, getting louder, an audible crunch and everything went silent.

"End of message."

Mark shut his eyes tightly, his voice low. "Please tell me there's a way you can find her."

"Ah traced the signal of her last known location 'fore it disappeared," Jazz paused. "That's all Ah'm able ta do."

Cars pulled to the side of the road at the sound of sirens, staring in bewilderment as a rescue Hummer raced passed, a solstice tailgating it, and a Peterbilt following close behind. Ratchet only turned his sirens off once they were on the outskirts of Mark's town, Jazz taking the lead once more.

They drove through backstreets of town, avoiding stop lights and other drivers. Jazz felt a sense of foreboding as he continued to follow the marker that was blinking in the corner of his hud. Entering the familiar canyon, Jazz picked up his speed, weaving through the winding road at a speed no human would dare to attempt. Mark's body twitched in his seat, the soldiers face tense, jaw clenched as they drove past the open gates of his drive way knowing his house was hidden in an alcove.

Jazz eased off the gas, passing two more houses that were well spread apart from each other before the trio of three came to a stop. Popping open his driver's door he watched as the young human stepped out.

Mark stared down at the fresh droplets of blood staining the asphalt road, his hands curling into tight fists at the sight of skid marks. A hand rested on his shoulder, a broken phone filling his vision. He grasped the broken phone with shaking fingers and hunched over.

His sister was gone.

The hand on his shoulder tightened. The three other men standing around him all wearing grim faces. This wasn't how they expected to use their fixed program of the holoforms. The true reason of why Optimus and Ratchet called them to the overlook.

"Mark," Optimus deep baritone broke the silence. "We will find her, I promise you this on my spark."

A black van slowly reversed into the destination of where its delivery of stock items would go. Workers opened the vans back doors - questioning eyes having been silenced with mere threats promising the color of red hanging over the peon workers heads. Beginning the process of unloading the cargo, different length and width sizes of open wooden crates filled with firearms of illegal and legal measures passed between workers as the crates were set upon old rusted metal tables. Each firearm was inspected, taken apart, put back together, and loaded before workers moved them into labeled boxes with a well known name brand of an auto parts company bolded across it in cursive calligraphy.

Another van soon reversed next to its twin, a different group of workers approaching it. All of them were far to clean cut, wearing black slacks and black tees, their hands free of any grime. The black van's doors opened, the light penetrating the darkness its cargo had been locked in. Soft whimpers and squinted eyes stared out into the light with fear and confusion. Each squeal and shriek muffled from behind the tape on their lips as they were roughly pulled out of the beginning stages of what would soon to be known as their new lives.

Eyes roamed over each of the teenage girls, calculative, cold, bar of any emotion. The batch was deemed profitable, two of them barely blooming, one with a figure that would please any, two more with broken eyes - easy to handle and perfect submissives, one more beautifully exotic an of perfect age, eyes defiant - yes, their customers would pay well to break her.

One brow rose as their runners stepped out of the van, one carrying a limp body in his arms, the other having taped a wad of gauze over his nose that was stained red. "What is that?"

The driver cringed at the question, fidgeting with his hands nervously. "Well...we ran into a small problem."

"What small problem?"

Both runners shared an uneasy glance, the one holding the limp body speaking up. "Well yeh see, she sorta happened teh see everyt'ing when we got teh pricey one..."

Workers glanced in the two rookie runners direction, rookie or not, mistakes were not tolerated within the organization. The six main prized possessions were roughly hauled towards a shipment container, its deep red far from calming. Its doors were pulled open revealing a large group of chained teenage girls. It was then the six newcomers realized they had just entered the fiery flames of hell.

"That's not what he was speaking of." Both runners froze at the chipper voice that spoke.

A caucasian man in his late twenties with hints of already graying auburn hair, deep sea green eyes, an carefree air around him approached. He smiled widely, revealing straight white teeth an one silver canine. "He was speaking about your nose."

Another man wearing a lab coat followed close behind, fiddling with a small metallic box cradled within their grasp.

"Teh girl whopped 'em good." A harsh nudge in his side came from his partner. "She whopped 'em good, Sir."

Green eyes stared at the two runners with pure utter disappointment, a dramatic sigh leaving his lips as he pulled a hand sanitizer bottle out of his button up chest pocket. Pouring a large glob onto his hand he put the bottle back in his pocket and made a show of slowly rubbing the liquid into his hands as he pretended to contemplate over the situation. "I believe I was told that the last batch would only contain six - clearly neither of you can count..."

The runners stiffened, the hair on the napes of their necks rising. One trembled, the other breaking into a sweat, both sets of eyes full of pure terror.

"Now, I'm sure you both are fully aware that if this becomes a problem...I have every right to dispose of-"

A ringing tick cut off the man, his eyes moving curiously slow to the device his scientist held. A look of surprise passed over the scientist's face, his eyes catching sea green. A nod of affirmation aloud the scientist to move closer to the two runners, running the small device over them for the ringing tick to remain at a steady pace. He passed over the limp body, the small metal device ringing louder, its tick sharper.

A large dementing grin caused many workers to take a step back. The grin held a secret glee, a sick excitement of a grown child becoming infatuated with a new toy.

"Actually boys," the green eyed man drawled. "Go on home. You have done a marvelous job tonight. Well done."

"Now," he turned his gaze to the limp body being transferred into his scientists arms, the small device going haywire. "Call up the ol' geezer, he'll wanna hear this."

"Abel," the red haired man sneered at his first name, disdain clearly on his features as he glanced at the scientist. "Take her below?"

Abel shrugged. "Throw her in the closet for all I care, just tell me when she wakes up. Don't let Gil prod her either - already know he'll throw a bitch fit if he finds out the crazy bastard cut her open without him."

With a nod the scientist walked away.

Abel glanced at the red shipment container, his lip curling in a disgusted sneer. The Underground Organization may be one unified nation full of large groups off grid, each holding their own individual hidden agendas, each more crooked, each far more corrupt and all hungering for the same indivisible goal; power. For one Crown Master of the Underground to meddle with another Crown Master's business lead to that groups downfall, a full clean sweep of a genocide, its members merely fickle dust in the wind; mere allegations with another crown master were not unheard of, for the benefits would bode well for both parties. The Crown Master of the Underground's Human Trafficking held safe harbor with many others, allowing its shipment containers to change locations across the world, keeping unwanted attention away from the hidden face of the Crown Master and its cargo on a cold dead trail.

The Crown Master of the Underground's Weaponry location had been the next safe harbor, leading to Abel's sheer distaste of the large shipment container. It cut into the set schedule he had set; Abel disliked anything or anyone who disrupted and unbalanced his time.

"Hey, you!" He snapped his fingers at the clean cut group of men catching their attention as he glanced down at his watch. "Where's your long face heifer at? This container has to be outta here in ten!"

Within a black abyss silence stretched with free reign, devoid of sound, devoid of feeling, nothing but a cold muted numbness. It was in this void where a dim pulsating blue energy beat, an orb softly crackling with living electricity. Light blue electrified smokey wisps lazily drifted around the orb, twirling, turning, dancing and skimming across it with breeze like caresses. One stray dark blue wisp, thicker and lifeless, billowed in an invisible breeze, its ends frayed as if it had been snapped from an unknown tether.

An unknown sensation suddenly caused the void to shift, an unfamiliar presence had breeched past the closed walls. No, they hadn't exactly breeched it, but they were there. They were on the outskirts.

It was a strange aura, strong, lively, and pulsing with energy. Energy that was much needed, desired. The orb floated to the outskirts of the void, it needed to be closer, it needed to find this energy - energy to bring life back into it, mend it, make it strong once again.

Beckoning the presence near, a strong fluctuation came from the strange essence. Emotions trickled within the black abyss causing its dormant conscious side to stir slightly. First confusion, then slowly fear.

What was it afraid of? It had nothing to fear with it being so close, it could keep it safe. Brushing along the edge, the faint orb sent a soft wave of its energy to the essence, pushing it out of the void with blue tendrils.

An emotion trickled through - uneasiness? The strange essence seemed to be curling in on itself, unaware that it was slowly opening itself up unconsciously, its aura of energy seeping out with the clear need to find someone, connect with someone, to be reassured it was safe, it wasn't alone. Green wispy streams entered the void, seeking, seeking for something, anything - the blue orb flared to a bright pulsating blue, crackling with renewed vigor as short thin tethers of wisps danced about, arcing to an fro as it extended to connect with the foreign energy.

Blue and green intertwined into a weak an unstable connection. A large more lively green mass of energy entered the void, having followed the beckoning of the blue tendrils. The essence was different from the electrified pulsating energy, it didn't have a defining shape, moving freely like that of flickering flame, its colors an array of all different greens, its energy sheer and glowing with an ethereal aura.

A Cybertronian's once dormant conciousnesss slowly awoke within the confines of a forced stasis lock, pure confusion and surprise washing over them - emotions not being theirs.

A once dying spark had found the power of a living energy to keep it beating.

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**And once again...sorry late update! How was it? I didn't really like how I took it in a different direction then how I originally planned but it works so meh. Underground Organization! We have a slight smidge of the Underground info now with more to come...now to just figure out that whole dynamic...heh. Until next time my fellow readers!**


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